“Mother. Please.”
We stood in a strange little tableau for a moment, a longer moment than I was comfortable with. I finally fumbled the packing slip out of my pocket and held it toward Claire. Mrs. Latham stepped forward and grabbed it from my hand. She scanned the paper.
“Claire, you should open the box and inspect the dress for damage. The signature on this paper...” She rattled the paper in my direction. “...means that you accept the dress as it is. And the box looks damaged.”
Mrs. Latham glared at me over the paper. “I hope the dress is undamaged.”
Claire was prying the cover off the box, digging through layers and layers of rose-colored tissue paper. She reached in, pulling out an armful of cream satin and beading. She held it up, the long gown and train spilling out of the box.
“Oh, it’s beautiful.” There was a wealth of intricate gathers and beaded flowers and I wondered exactly what part went where. But what I could see was gorgeous.
“Of course it’s beautiful. It should be, with what it cost. But it’s totally impractical for a beach wedding.”
“But Mother, it’s the dress I’ve always wanted. You know that.”
“I’m not having this discussion with you now, Claire. I can see where this is headed.” There was a sharp intake of breath from Mrs. Latham. Tears welled in Claire’s eyes and before I really registered what was happening, Mrs. Latham was closing the villa door behind her. There was a moment of silence, stunned silence on my part. My heart went out to Claire, trying to imagine how horrible it was to have a mother who was so cold. I had an image of my mom, sharing every minute of my wedding plans, whenever that would be, both of us having a wonderful time.
“Are you going to try it on?” Maybe distracting Claire from her tears would work. I didn’t feel up to another temper tantrum.
“Are you going to try it on?”
“Of course I am.” I looked at Claire. The tears had dried up, the pout gone. All of that was replaced by a cold gaze and lips held in a firm line. I’d almost forgotten the change she’d undergone when she’d arrived, when I’d dropped her at the villa. I thought then she’d just been overwhelmed with everything.
Claire scooped up the dress and in a rustle headed to her bedroom. I wasn’t quite sure if I was required to stay but I thought it would be rude to leave. So I perched on the edge of the nearest chair and waited.
There was a long period of silence. I could hear the rain, louder now against the windows. I glanced up looking for the glass ceiling that Ben’s villa had, but this room had a steeply pitched wooden ceiling with a large fan. I was still looking up when the bedroom door opened.
“I need your help.”
Claire stood in the muted watery light from window. She was absolutely stunning, even with her hair pulled back and no make-up. The dress was strapless, beautifully draped and pleated. A wash of beaded flowers ran across the front below the nipped in waist, down the side and in a sweep across the train.
“I said, I need your help. With the dress.”
She turned around and I saw the back of the dress was a welter of satin ties. I hesitated as Claire looked over her shoulder.
“Start from the top and tighten them. Then tie them in at the bottom. Can you handle that? And don’t step on the dress.” Her voice resembled her mother’s, stern and demanding.
I reached for the ties, tugging them snug through the corseted back of the dress. Claire was adjusting the bodice of the dress as I cinched it closed.
“Tighter. It has to go tighter.”
“It’s as tight as it goes...the back pieces are touching.”
“You’re doing something wrong then. Just finish.”
I finally got the laces tight and tied in something that resembled a bow. I stepped back as Claire walked to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. She eyed herself critically for a moment, turning from side to side. Then she turned, looking at the back. Her face froze in a look of abject horror.
“There is a spot on the back of the dress.” The voice could have cut through steel.
I looked down at the dress, eyes scanning the cream satin.
“Where? I don’t see...”
“There.” She pointed with one manicured nail. “On the edge of the train.”
I knelt down, looking where she was pointing. There was a spot, more like a darker area. I touched the spot. It was wet.
“I think it’s water. It’s damp.”
Claire whirled around, almost toppling me over in a wave of satin, striding to the box the dress came in. She pawed through the tissue, tossing it onto the floor, holding up one crumpled sheet. The rose-colored tissue colored with water, turning a deep magenta. Claire flipped the box over. The back was crumpled, one corner damaged, clearly wet.
“This...” She pointed to the offending box. “This is how my dress got damaged. It’s ruined. And it’s your fault.”
“Claire, I’m sorry. But the box...”
“I’m not interested in your excuse. I want Vienna.”
I stood up. “I’ll call her.” I tapped my microphone. “Vienna? Are you there?”
The familiar burst of static greeted me. “I’m here. I’m busy. What is it?”
“There’s a problem with Claire’s dress.”
“Do not tell me it hasn’t arrived. If that’s...”
“No, Vienna. It’s here. It’s just...”
“Just tell her I want her here. Now. Can you just tell her that?” Claire stood in front of me, hands on her hips.
“Claire would like you to come to her villa.” Even I could hear the flat tone of my voice, repeating what Claire said.
“Then you’ll have to come get me. I have no working cart, remember?”
“James brought one for you. It should be parked outside.” There was silence. I waited but there was nothing more.
“Well?”
“She’s on her way.”
Claire turned her back to me. “This is unacceptable. The dress is ruined, it doesn’t fit...”
“But the spot is barely noticeable. It’s already fading. By your wedding day, no one will notice.”
“It’s not your wedding day. If it’s not perfect, then it’s ruined.”
“But it’s just a tiny spot on the dress. You’re marrying Ben; that’s the important thing.”
Claire spun around, her eyes blazing. “What would you know? You’re just some nobody. You’re not even married, are you?”
I held up my hands. “I’m here to help, Claire. I know you’re upset.” But upset didn’t really encompass Claire at the moment. Her face was flushed, her eyes narrowed. More than anything I wanted out of that villa, but I couldn’t just turn and run.
There was a brisk knock at the door. I almost ran to open it, never so relieved to see Vienna. She pushed past me into the villa.
“Vienna...” The transformation in Claire was immediate. The tears started instantly, the voice went high and the pout came back. I took a step back, watching as Vienna stepped forward, embracing Claire, patting her back as the girl sobbed against her shoulder.
“Claire, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s something we can fix.”
“It’s ruined...there’s a stain. The box was damaged. It got wet...and it’s too big.” Claire choked out her litany of complaints about the dress between sobs.
Vienna made vaguely soothing noises, gently turning Claire around, looking at all the back of her dress, down at the train at the offending spot. She finally glanced at me.
“Dana, you’re still here. Don’t you have somewhere to be? Aren’t there guests arriving that need your attention?”
“Yes. I do...I’ll be going. Did James bring you a cart?”
“I’m fine, Dana. It’s taken care of.”
I let myself out of the villa, closing the door quietly behind me. I could hear Vienna’s murmuring and Claire’s sobs. Vienna knew how to handle Claire. She was in good hands.
I drove back toward the terminal. The
important thing was the dress had arrived. I hoped the stain would fade. As far as being too big...Claire was stick thin, probably from the stress of the wedding. The dress was still gorgeous and she was still beautiful in it. But I had the feeling if she didn’t feel perfect, nothing would be perfect for her. The illusion was all that mattered.
The path curved sharply at one point and I slowed, driving carefully on the damp pavement. As I rounded the corner, I heard someone behind me calling my name. I turned. It was Ben.
The cart swerved as I skidded to a stop. My heart took off at a breakneck pace, thudding in equal parts surprise and something else...and partly knowing it was Ben, and he was coming to talk to me. Then there was the sound of footsteps and then he was beside me.
“Sorry...again. I keep sneaking up on you. Are you okay?”
He was a little breathless, his words coming out in gasps, dressed in running shorts and shoes. And nothing else. His hair was damp from the rain, his breathing fast, his face flushed. He stood on the path, hands on his hips, catching his breath.
“I’m fine. You caught me by surprise, is all. I just...the only person I’ve ever seen on the paths had been your Grandfather Nate, yesterday, walking from the terminal.”
Ben laughed. “Grandpa Nate...he’d walk around the world if he could. He used to take me on these long walks...rambles, he called them...when I was a kid, when we’d visit England. There’s these walking trails in the Cotswolds, you can go for miles over the hills, walk all day and then stay in a little village, at an inn, sleep in a bed. We’d wake up the next morning, have these huge breakfasts at the inn, get a packed lunch and then walk again all day. It was beautiful.”
Ben’s face was alive, his eyes dancing with the memory. His excitement was contagious and I broke into a wide grin. “It does sound beautiful. How old were you?”
He rested his hands on the roof of the cart. “I’d go every summer for a visit. We started the walks when I was about seven...just day walks. By the time I was in my teens, we’d be out for a week or longer.”
“Those sounds like wonderful memories. Do you still go back?”
Ben shook his head. “I haven’t gone back with them since the summer before college. Life got busy, I guess, or it got in the way.”
“Maybe you can take Claire there now. Start a new tradition.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Claire’s not much for traveling, but you’re right. It would something to show her. It’s still just as beautiful there, from what Grandpa Nate says.”
There was one of those semi-awkward pauses, the silence stretching out between us. Ben was still leaning on the roof of the cart, still looking down at me. And I was still looking up at him. I wanted words, something profound, or at least something to keep the conversation going. The little thrill that had started when I saw him kept thrumming through my body and as much as I knew he belonged to someone else, it was too soon to let go of that feeling.
“Claire’s dress arrived today. I just dropped it off.”
“I bet that made her happy.”
I winced and then tried to talk it back. Ben’s smile dimmed.
“What happened?”
“The dress had a water spot...the box must have gotten damaged and the rain got the tissue paper wet. She was quite upset. And it was too big...she’s apparently lost weight since the last fitting.”
Ben dropped his arms from the cart and took a step back from the cart. He sighed. “I think I said she’s a little obsessed with the dress. It’s almost like...” He sighed again, shaking his head.
“Like what?”
“Like sometimes the dress is more important than me.” His voice dropped, his eyes on the path.
“Ben, I’m sure that’s not the way she feels. It’s just...” I really didn’t know what it was that Claire felt. I tended to agree with Ben. Claire did seem to be more interested in the trappings of the wedding and not so much the man she was marrying. But then again, I wasn’t always seeing her at her best. And I couldn’t really tell Ben what I thought.
“I’m sure it’s just the pressure and stress of it all. This is really a big event, you know, lots of people, guests. All brides get nervous, act differently...”
Ben set his hand on my shoulder. “Dana...thanks. I know you’re trying to make me feel better. I know what Claire can be like. It’s all part of who she is. She’s...intense sometimes, I guess.”
“I guess I just want everyone to be happy.” I gave him a smile that I hoped looked encouraging.
“Thanks again, Dana. I should let you get back to work.”
“And I should let you get out of the rain.”
“At least it’s a warm rain. In New York I’d be miserable. This...” He held out his hands and lifted his face to the sky. “...this is wonderful.”
“You’re slightly crazy...but, you know, as long as you’re happy.”
“I am...” He smiled, took a few steps backward and turned. He waved over his shoulder at me and ran off in the opposite direction, back toward his villa.
I watched him for a moment, arms relaxed, broad shoulders, long legs taking him down the path away from me. The warm feeling I’d felt while we’d talked slowly left me, replaced with a strange sense of loss. I wasn’t sure how I could lose someone that wasn’t mine. And I wasn’t the happy one then.
Chapter Five
I tried to avoid Ben’s side of the island, as I’d come to think of it, since I’d seen him during his run. My feelings were tangled and raw.
Most of the guests were in rooms and cottages close to the terminal, so I hadn’t needed to venture too far. But the more guests who arrived, the further I’d traveled across the island and the closer I came to Ben’s villa. I wasn’t sure if he was even there, or what the plans were for him and his groomsmen for the afternoon. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask him.
Vienna’s meticulous planning had given them a free day, as she’d called it, intended for Claire to have a day of pampering at the island spa, and Ben and his friends a chance to unwind before the rehearsal dinner. I knew there were jet skis, kayaks, surfboards...all the toys boys could want. But with the rain, I wasn’t sure if they’d be outside. I was a total neophyte when it came to water sports. Swimming was about as far as I cared to go when it came to the water. But if Ben was happy running in the rain, maybe they would be out enjoying themselves.
It was well past lunch when the last chartered flights of guests arrived. I ferried them to their villas and then checked in with Vienna. She was as brusque as always, curtly informing me I was done for the day, but to keep my mic on, just in case.
The rehearsal dinner was that night, for the guests and the bridal party. Again, it would be handled by the island staff, with Vienna overseeing. I knew I wasn’t going to be trusted to have anything to do with large group dinners, particularly the rehearsal dinner. And that was okay with me. I’d had the distinct sense Vienna would somehow press me into waiting tables, and I’d had enough waitressing for the time being.
The paths were slick with rain, puddles of water collecting in the dips and hollows. I’d splashed myself more than once and one leg of my pants was wet up to the knee. All I wanted right now was a hot shower and dry clothes.
I’d turned down the path to my villa, looking forward to some wine and another dinner of bread and cheese. I laughed; bread and cheese, back home with Lisa, would have been the desperation meal the day before payday. But here the cheese had names I couldn’t pronounce and the bread was thick and dense and full of flavor. It might have been a simple repast, but it sure wasn’t poor.
The rain had let up, the sky lightening. I hoped it meant the storm was passing over. I pulled up to the cart plug and stepped out onto the wet grass. I was just plugging the cart in when static erupted in my ear. I dropped the plug and jumped back from it, half expecting a jolt of electricity to shoot up my arm.
Then the burst of static solidified into Vienna’s voice. “Dana. Where are you?”
I sighed.
“I’m at my villa...at my room.” I plugged in the cart and ran up the steps inside. Even though the rain had stopped, the wind had picked up and it was getting cooler.
“I need you at the main villa. There’s a problem with the seating arrangements for the dinner. I’m working with the kitchen and wait staff right now. You’ll have to handle this.”
“I need to change. I’m wet.”
“Wet? Fine...wear a dress. Something nice, just in case you’re here during the actual dinner.”
I glanced at my suitcase, the only really decent dress I’d brought peeking out of the rubble were my clothes.
“Sure. I’ll be there as soon as I can, Vienna.”
She was gone. I grabbed the dress, a silky green thing that Lisa lent me. She’d also sent along a pair of decent heels, black, not too terribly high, but I still liked them quite a bit. It wasn’t often I got to dress up in heels and I was glad now I’d have a chance to wear them.
But...the dress. It was wrinkled, more than I knew Vienna would tolerate. I glanced at my watch. I’d give Vienna twenty minutes before she started looking for me.
Taking the dress in hand, I made a dash for the bathroom, turning on the shower. I hung the dress on the back of the door and closed the door. I did a quick dance beneath the warm water, got out of the shower and turned the hot water on full force. I slipped out with a pile of towels and the hairdryer, closing the door behind me. Hopefully the hot water would generate enough steam to ease some of the wrinkles out of the dress.
I sat on the bed, wrapped in towels, and dried my hair. There wasn’t much I could do with it, other than straighten it as much as possible with my brush, but that wasn’t really working. The humidity had done a number on it today and it had been an out of control mass floating around my head. I had an inspired idea and managed to wrangle it into a semi-controlled chignon at the back of my neck. Some stray tendrils escaped and I let them air dry, and as I expected, they curled into little ringlets.
The only make-up I ever wore was a brush of mascara and a slick of lipstick, but Lisa had insisted I take along the majority of her collection of eye shadow and blush. I did the best I could with my limited expertise in applying them, going easy on everything. A look in the mirror told me that I’d gotten everything in the right place and even though the face looking back looked different, I couldn’t say I didn’t look pretty.
Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males) Page 24